Imprint
by Kazekage-Hime
Summary: It was a tyrant, a monster with the mind of a child. When it enslaved the world only one hope existed. That hope has finally returned. A new epic adventure staring our favorite warriors, and a few new ones.
1. Chapter 1

_**Imprint**_

**Prelude**

The dreams come to her in the hours of darkness. Pain and sorrow fill her sight. Haunting onyx eyes gaze into hers, crying out silently, relentlessly for help. She can do nothing but reach out in vain as the image disappears along with screams of anguish. She sits up; a strangled noise escapes her throat.

She can still hear his voice, so gentle, so desperate. So … weak. "Come back," he whispers, "come back home. We need you." She knew this was no mere dream, but what was it? Who was calling out to her, and where, if this wasn't her rightful place, was home?

* * *

**Chapter One**

They had concluded that it had always been. It was a creature that no one could explain, nor account for. It had just appeared one day, intent on ruling their world. It was a planet-hopper, a destroyer of worlds. For years it would be monarch and in the moment it tired of it's current playground it would dispose of the world in an orderly fashion and move on.

Somehow it reached earth. There was an idea that it had been drawn there by the great power, or the stories of the inhabitants, perhaps by both. The reason mattered not, for it was here and they could not defeat it. I wasn't a great warrior but it wielded magic no one had ever witnessed, especially it's ability to shape shift form. Yet, whatever form it took it still carried a heart of evil and ice. It was nothing more than a murderer, a tyrant with a child's theory of possession.

They fought long and hard against it, but it seemed to have no weaknesses. They tried to keep control of earth until their forces were so depleted that it wasn't possible. Only a handful of the world's protectors were left. The rest were in some kind of magic-induced coma in its private collection, its gallery. They were neither dead nor alive, they just _were_.

Those who still lived on earth hid in terror, hoping their demonic sovereign would stay in it's palace in the sky, a palace that did not belong to it, but one it had stolen form those who were the rightful guardians. It's prisoners.

XXX

Dende's eyes fluttered open slowly as he turned on his side to survey his darkened room. For a moment the shadows seemed to creep from their corners, rushing at him like some sort of vile monster, but there was only one monster around and he always sensed when it was near.

He sighed softly and sat up while rubbing the back of his sore neck. _Slept wrong again … damn._

He recalled last night's dream. Well, it wasn't a dream, but a vision, a communication between two different worlds. He had been trying to get through for a while now and had finally succeeded. The only thing left was to let the target know what was happening. He had to do this slowly or his plan would backfire, and probably most horribly. That could not happen. The soul in the other dimension was their last hope and sole defense.

With much effort he forced himself to his feet and padded across the fairly sizable room to the desk in the corner. From a hidden drawer he pulled the log he had always kept. Once it was full of only grand sentiments and unimportant, but entertaining details of his life and the lives of those he watched over. Now the pages were growing restless with dark thoughts and nightmares. Paradise had been stolen and had been unceremoniously replaced by Hell, a Hell that had no compare.

His nimble fingers skimmed over the bound book. It had been a gift from a friend who said, "all those thoughts in that head of yours! You need a place to keep them." She had claimed that he was very interesting and they both had laughed. That was back when the world still made sense. His friend was dead now. _It_ had been jealous of the attention he paid her. She was a human, so vulnerable. Her life had been snuffed out in an instant. One gesture and she was gone, nothing left but her life-less shell and the memories that seemed all too few.

He looked down at his hands and saw them fisted in his lap; his nails were biting painfully into his flesh and had gone unnoticed until that moment. Carefully he pried them apart. He loathed the creature, Padraigan, or Padra, it called itself so vainly. It had enforced that "Master" be placed before it when he addressed it. With crushed dignity and unwavering hatred he had to obey. One day he would see that abomination pay for everything it had done, and everyone it had hurt.

_I hope you see it coming, you filthy, arrogant bastard._

Suddenly he felt it, that sick sensation that started in the pit of his stomach and curled through his entire body. It was here. Hurriedly he spun to face his tormentor, just as an arm connected with the side of his head. He was sent spinning onto the floor and into the wall, which was quite a distance away.

"My, my, my." Padra drawled, it was in its female form, a favorite when confronting the Namekian guardian. "We have been busy, haven't we?" She flared coldly at him, her fathomless eyes seemingly piercing his soul and freezing it. He just looked at her like he had no idea what she was talking about. That angered her more. She hated to be lied to and ignored. "Dende, you've been very bad. How dare you. I cannot let this slide. Now, whom should I punish? You or those pathetic earthlings you care for so much?"

As she approached him he felt a great amount of fear and dread. He had gone too far this time. It wasn't going to be pretty … and he doubted he would come out of this alive. Her shadow fell over him and he raised his head, determined to face this most likely end with courage. He only felt terror…

XXX

"Watch out!" A voice cried from across the gymnasium. Zoë Talbet dodged just before a large red ball flew passed her head and struck the girl behind her.

"Out!" The Physical Education teacher announced as the other girl sulked off to the side. Zoë gave a sigh of relief. She was a competitor, always reaching to do better and be the very best. Even in something as insignificant as Dodge Ball. The seventeen year old was a dreamer but worked hard to reach her goals.

The voices of her classmates drifted through her ears, which were unusually sensitive to sound. "Wow! That was amazing. I thought that was going to hit her!" and "Nah, Zoë has always had good reflexes like that." and finally, "Yeah, it's like she knows what's going to happen just before it does."

Zoë smiled softly, inwardly. If only they knew that sometimes she did get the feeling something would occur and it would. She _had_ sensed the ball coming at her before the warning, even before it was thrown at her. She couldn't explain it. She had been that way all her life. She had a lot of dreams that would eventually happen. Little things mostly, like going out with friends or what was for lunch. It was like living in a permanent déjà vu.

Zoë didn't mind it. As unnatural as it was it made her feel special, superior to others somehow. Even if she failed at one of her appointed tasks she could always look at that and remind herself that at least she was a notch above the rest on something. She wasn't conceited about herself or her abilities, but being one of four children she was used to having to fight for recognition.

Sometimes though, her great gift could be an awful curse. When she was ten she had a reoccurring dream that something bad would happen to her best friend at the time. It stopped when she was struck by a car and paralyzed from the waist down. When she was fourteen she had a vision about her father. While her mother was still trying to calm her down a shot rang out from the garage. He had accidentally shot himself while cleaning his hunting rifles.

Again it was happening. Her dreams were turning into nightmares. It wasn't really the dreams themselves that frightened her, they actually concerned and saddened her, it was the sense of dread they gave her, that overwhelming feeling that something big was coming. Something she wasn't sure she could handle.

XXX

Ten minutes later the girl's locker room was buzzing with sound. The adrenalin from the game was winding down and excited chatter filled the air. Zoë grabbed her bad from the back-most bench and weaved her way to one of the stalls. As she reached it she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, Zo. You goin' to the dance on Friday?" Angela Watson was one of her closest friends.

"No. I'm going to stick at home. Mom is going to be out of town and I promised Stacy that I would spend some time with her." Zoë replied, unzipping her bag.

"Aw, c'mon. Jeremy wants to go with you. Don't you think you two would be the cutest?"

"I'll have to pass." Zoë said absently.

Angela sighed. "Damn, Zoë. I don't understand you. You're always turning guys down - - and cute ones, too. Why?"

"I just haven't found anyone I like, that's all. They're decent enough, but I - - I'm looking for a connection."

"Zoë, you're taking this 'one' thing too seriously, it's high school. You should be dating around. How else are you going to find the perfect guy you are always talking about?"

"I don't want a perfect guy, just someone who can understand me. When I find him I will know. Until then can we please drop the subject?"

Angela shrugged. "Fine, but I don't get how you can stand to be alone all the time."

As Zoë watched her walk away she whispered, "I don't either."

XXX

Pain. Pure, unadulterated pain. The silence made the situation worse. If Padra had been screaming at him, voicing her anger, he could have displaced his attention towards her words instead of fully on the excruciating punishment. The silence was Hell, it isolated him from everything and in this complete darkness it made him feel more alone than ever before. It was a reminder that there was no one who could save him, no one to wake him from this nightmare. It was the ultimate despair.

He began to detach himself from the world, numbed himself to the pain. He felt blood, warm and released from his veins, tumbling, rolling over his trembling, heated body. That didn't matter. He felt the blows, calculated strikes in all the right places. If the beating did not kill him it would break his spirit. He could not allow his will to be destroyed because if that happened all was lost. He would rather die than give that monster what it wanted.

He began to stare at one singe spot in the dark. His vision was drawn to that spot, captured there. He concentrated on it, letting the world fade away and disappear. The spot began to change. He was closing his eyes and entering his own mind. Without realizing what he was doing he reached out to the connection in the other world. He had shut himself off, given up, but his subconscious, his inner desire to survive, too over, calling, calling…

Everything was slipping away, but suddenly there was a light inside the darkness. A name. He was crying her name - - and she answered.

XXX

Zoë dug through her closet. Thus far the perfect outfit could not be found. She pulled out another shirt/skirt set and held it up for her best friend. Tari Caine wrinkled her little nose and tilted her head in analyzation. After a moment she pulled a discarded shirt from the pile and held it up to the skirt in Zoë's hands. The older girl saw what she meant and nodded. This was the one. She grinned and began to change.

"I'm glad you've decided to join us this time, Zoë." Tari said, dropping cross-legged onto Zoë's bed. "I know you hate Dance-Dance Revolution but you're gonna have so much fun."

Zoë laughed. "Yeah, sure. I'm going to laugh at you guys jumping around on light-up pads like imbeciles. I'd say that's a good time."

Tari play glared. She knew Zoë didn't really think they looked dumb. It was her way of showing interest when she wouldn't take part herself. Zoë didn't show much outward emotion to be frank. It wasn't that she was a cold individual; indeed, she was a very warm person. She was just placid, lacking somehow.

Tari called her a 'searcher.' She always seemed to be looking for something. She knew her best friend wasn't normal. Actually Tari was one of the only ones who knew Zoë's psychic secret. Tari had figured it out after watching the other girl for a while. When she had confronted Zoë about it she only smiled and said, "good job." That was how their friendship began two years ago.

Now Tari was watching her again. Zoë was worrying her. She had been acting peculiar lately and had declined to give the reason. Zoë was concerned, if not afraid, of something and Tari needed to find out what. If Zoë was in danger then Tari had to do something about it. There was no way she was going to stand by and watch her be hurt.

XXX

Zoë was finishing lacing up her knee-high boots when it came. A pain like none she had ever felt seized her body, forcing her to double over with a cry of shock and fear. Where was this coming from? Was it another vision? What horrible future was it foretelling? Was it the future? Who was in pain?

She felt Tari's hands on her shoulders, heard her worried voice. That did not matter; Zoë vaguely registered it. Everything was fading around her.

Her mind was switching on, a different sight than the human eye. Everything was changing, twisting, and morphing. Her room began to disappear into a misty gray-scale darkness. A voice from within the haze called out to her; pleading, hurt, and weak. The same voice from her dreams! But she was awake … how could that be?

Zoë stumbled from her room into the hallway. Her hands felt along her path, gripped the walls for support and guidance.

The voice was calling her name. The gentle desperation in the tone was nearly as painful as the waves attacking her physically. _"Zoë … Zoë, can you hear me?"_

_"Yes!" _She cried, "_I can hear you. Who are you? You're from my dreams, aren't you?"_

_"Yes. I was trying to reach you, prepare you, but it was all for naught. It is over."_ Another stitch of pain.

_"What do you mean?"_ Zoë asked, near panic.

_"It's over."_ The voice was strained, saddened. The owner was completely drained. _"I've lost and I think I am about to die. There is no hope for my world. I am a failure."_ Zoë could sense his grief, could feel the self-blame tingling along her skin along with the pain.

_"Please, don't talk like that. Surely there is some way."_

_"You."_ Fainter. He was losing his strength, and fast. _"You were our hope, but I can't help you now. It knows and I have put you in peril. I cannot bring you here anymore."_

Zoë fell to her knees as the pain increased. She screamed with her companion in her head. Yet, no matter how much she hurt she thought only of him. She felt his loss, the depths of his despair, and now the physical torture that was being wrought upon him. She wanted to reach to him, hold him, and protect him. She wanted to save him from this "it" he was talking about.

_"Who are you?" _She asked again, fighting to get to her feet, fighting against the blackness that threatened to creep into the gray around her. _"Tell me. I know you, don't I? You're familiar."_ The haze swirled in her head, muddled her thoughts. She cursed not being able to place him. _"Have we met?"_

It took a moment for an answer. _"We've met, but you wouldn't remember. I must go now. I've caused you enough pain. I wish we had had more time. I'd have liked to have met you."_ Zoë could feel him slipping away. He was letting go; she didn't want him to let go.

Behind her Tari emerged from her bedroom. Zoë staggered to the stairs, hands grasping the sides of her head. "NO!" She screamed, "No! Please, don't leave me! Take me with you!" Zoë suddenly pitched forward as she tripped on the stairs. Tari tried to reach her, stop her from her descent, but before she could reach her Zoë was gone.

She had vanished into thin air!

* * *

This is a story I had posted once before and took down, but now I'm putting it back up again to see who's interested in it. Next Chapter: Gohan and Piccolo get in on the mix and a rescue mission ensues. Toodles.

_Mizuki-Sama_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Son Gohan stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the small base camp he and the other surviving fighters had been able to make. The movements of his ant-sized comrades seemed so simple, so insignificant. It was almost normal. To anyone passing by it would appear that they were one of the villages that many of the survivors had created. Only Gohan or one of their own number would know different and understand the importance of this collection of people.

They were the only ones left that had a chance of keeping Padraigan on her toes. They had been a thorn in the alien's side since their establishment nearly a year before. Despite all the good they did, Gohan had to admit he was probably fighting a losing battle. It saddened the demi-saiyan to look upon his ranks now and see how exhausted they were becoming. They had lost so many friends and fellow warriors, and unless something changed, unless something radical happened then life would continue on this down-spiraling trend.

"You're going today, aren't you?" said a voice from behind him in an accusing, but soft tone. There was more worry than there was anger.

With a sigh Gohan turned to his little brother. "Yes, Goten, I am. I made a promise to myself that I would not leave anyone in that beast's clutches. Piccolo and I even made a pact that if one of us were taken the other would rescue the trapped or put them out of their misery."

"And you're not taking anyone?"

"No. I can't afford to. If they got hurt or killed that would be my fault. I have to do this alone."

"You can't!" Goten cried, suddenly rushing to his brother and throwing his arms around him, desperately clinging. "You just _can't_, Gohan! You're all I have left!" Tears flowed down his cheeks in rivulets. He buried his face in Gohan's side.

Gohan embraced him. "It's going to be fine." He said, but he wasn't sure. Padra was a formidable foe. There would be a good chance that he wasn't coming back. He might be killed - - or worse, added to its gallery. Just like his Dad. He didn't want to leave his brother; he would rather take him far away so that they might salvage that like they had left. Yet, he couldn't leave his friends or his planet either. Everyone was in for the long haul, and everyone had to make sacrifices.

"You promise." Goten raised his shining eyes to look at Gohan expectantly, hopefully.

Gohan only hugged him tighter.

XXX

THUMP! Zoë Talbert landed with a dull sound and rolled a few feet. She lay still a moment, believing that she couldn't move even if she tried. Surely she was dead, or at least close to it. Then she realized that instead of her carpeted floor she was on a harder, smoother surface. With a groan she rolled over and got into a sitting position.

Her head hurt, but not from the fall. She figured it had something to do with the extreme psychic activity she had just experienced. She ran a hand through her hair and tried to get passed the confusion. She looked around her, searching for a sign of where she was. What she saw shocked her and brought more questions than it did answers. She was in a familiar place, but one that could not possibly exist.

She was on the look-out, high above earth, an earth that she assumed was home to the great hero Goku; the Saiyan prince Vegeta; the Namek, Piccolo. Why was she here? _How_ was she here? This wasn't possible, was it? Still, she reminded herself, if they could make a time travel machine, why couldn't they make a dimensional travel machine?

That brought on a completely new question. Who? That was when she noticed he was gone, the voice in her head. Zoë panicked, tried to reach him again, but no answer. Their connection had been severed, at least for now. She hoped he wasn't gone permanently. She had to find him quickly or that would become a great possibility.

But where to find him? She racked her brain, trying to place the voice. It had been filled with so much pain and sorrow that the true sound had been masked. Voices change with emotion, that was something she always noticed. The trick was matching the voice by twisting those she knew in her mind. The result devastated her.

She had seen many of the fighters hurt, mentally and physically pushed to their extremes. Their families, innocents even got pulled into the mayhem some of the time, but the emotions, the tortures she had felt could not compare to what they had gone through. He had endured something so vile, so cruel. It made sense now why she was here, at the look out of all places. It was Dende.

Dende had called to her in his moment of darkness. Now she had to find him, save him - - or die trying. This was her world now. She felt it in her soul. The monster that caused this would _not_ go unpunished.

XXX

Gohan hovered above the look out. What once had been a refuge when nowhere was safe had become a prison. He was about to create a jailbreak. No more would Padra hold his friends captive. Its reign of terror over them would end.

He was about to go down when an anomaly appeared. It was faint at first but grew stronger quickly. It was a ki signal, but one he hadn't felt before. Within seconds of the initial reading a rip materialized in midair. From that rip fell a girl.

The girl looked about her mid-teens, perhaps a bit older. She wasn't very tall, nor was she extremely short. She had shoulder-length dark blond hair and tanned skin. She wore knee-high lace-up boots that increased her natural height about three inches, if not more. Her shirt was also black with only one thin spaghetti strap. It showed her mid-drift, revealing a silver belly-button ring. She wore a short black and red plaid skirt with pleats and lots of extra zippers, pockets, and buckles. Around her neck were many necklaces and on her wrists she wore red bands and lots of bracelets.

She definitely did not look like a fighter, but immense power flowed around her. That power, however, seemed to be stunted somehow. It was as if it had been put behind a wall and it could not break through. The girl had potential, but did _she_ know this? Yet another question: whom's side was she on?

Gohan watched in curiosity as she got to her feet and hurried inside. He would follow her. He had to find out who she was, and also, if she wasn't on Padra's side, make sure she didn't get into any trouble.

XXX

There was something off about the look out. Something sinister pulsed in the air. Zoë didn't _see_ anything strange but that did not mean it was not there. In this universe it was best to not go by your sight, but your senses. Everything was screaming at her to turn around and to get away from there. Whatever evil Dende had told her about was here, so she had to be careful. She couldn't help him if she got hurt herself.

The hallways seemed quiet and she tried to keep her steps from making any noise. She crept slowly along to the corridors, listening for any sounds that might signal the approach of an enemy. She wanted to scream out, she hated sneaking around, but that was the only way to keep safe.

The look out was so big. She wondered how long it would take her to find Dende. Then there was the trouble of how to get out. It was easy for her to be stealthy and avoid danger, but if he were injured, as she believed he was then that would slow them down considerably. Boy, where was instant transmission when you needed it?

XXX

Zoë pushed open the doorway at the end of the second hall she went through. It was very dark inside and the light from the hall only penetrated the darkness a few yards. Zoë could tell the room was much bigger. She stepped inside; hoping that whatever beast now resided up here was not in this room.

She was afraid to close the door in case she had to make a quick escape. She was also afraid to leave it open. What if someone saw it ajar and decided to come investigate? She weighed the choices and left it open. If she had to she could run and she could probably hear someone coming soon enough to close it, or at least hide.

A low laboring of breathing caught her attention. She turned and made her way towards the sound. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness a form appeared. "Dende!" She rushed to him, kneeling by his side. "My god, what happened? What did they do to you?"

There were manacles around his wrists and chains led to the wall with only enough slack for him to sit on the floor. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed. For a moment Zoë believed she was too late to help him. Then he stirred, barely lifting his face and slowly revealing hooded, gloomy eyes.

He gave her the strangest look. "No." He whispered. "No, you can't be here … she'll kill you." He had difficulty speaking and had to pause a few times, each time punctuated by a pained movement or bloodied cough.

Zoë shook her head. "No, don't worry about t." She said, trying to keep from upsetting him. He was in such bad shape, and yet he was concerned for _her_ safety. She couldn't let him hurt anymore. If only she could heal.

"Please, you must leave." He begged, grasping her arms. Zoë gazed at him sadly, seeing how much it pained him.

"No," she said, "I won't go. Where would I go? I cannot leave you. You're going with me. Now, tell me, is there any way to get out?"

"Perhaps, but you have to go. Leave me. I can't let you do this."

"Dende, please. I don't know anything about this world. I can't do this without you. You have to help me." She pleaded.

"I just want to die. I'll only cause you trouble. She will come after me and she'll hurt you. Just let me die…" Tears trailed down his face, mixing with patched of blood. He didn't even have enough energy to cry properly. He sobbed silently, every move he made argued against by his body.

Zoë gently put her arms around him, her own tears blinding her. How bad had this time been? What had happened to make him want to die? Of all people he was the last she expected to hear those words from. It angered her hat he could be treated so badly. With great determination she began yanking at the chains and the bonds around his wrists.

"I don't care. I'm going to save you whether you like it or now." She let out a strangled cry and got to her feet. Keys! There had to be keys around there somewhere! She began digging through random drawers, tossing things haphazardly about. She didn't care about anything other than those keys. "Damn it, where at they!" She yelled in frustration, furiously wiping the tears that would not stop from her eyes.

"Zoë." Just one word made her freeze. The fear in his tome sent shivers down her spine. His voice had changed. She was afraid to move, but slowly she turned, following his gaze.

Standing at the door was a tall, muscular man. He had a cruel demeanor and a smirk on his rough, dark face. With a smug motion he raised an object in his hands and with a jangling he said, "looking for these?" The keys! He laughed coldly at the expression on her desperate face. "Padra's going to have a _good_ laugh about this one, little Namek." He directed at Dende. "A puny little earth girl attempting a rescue!" He laughed again and stretched out his hand towards Zoë. "Just as soon as I get rid of you …"

"Zoë… run…" Dende managed, but Zoë was still as ice. The hand raised was like a vice, holding her in place, forcing her to look straight at inevitable death.

All she could think was to say, "sorry… I failed you."

XXX

BOOM! The room erupted with an earsplitting explosion. Zoë thought that she was most certainly dead, but she found she was still intact and without a scratch. She directed her gaze to a pile of rubble across the room the man was buried beneath. He was still alive, but not very happy.

Zoë began backing up. She was confused about what had happened and fearful about what the answer might be. The man stood and turned, not to her, but towards the door. Immediately he sent a blast at attacker; it was returned - - with force. Zoë spun and ran to Dende, dropping to her knees and gathering him in her arms protectively.

A series of blasts rained into the room, sending dust and debris into the air, creating a fog of dirt and trash. The man was down again and it was obvious he wasn't getting up again. All was silent except for the tumbling f bits and pieces of the wall and they found the floor. Then a voice came through the haze. "Dende! Are you in here!?"

Zoë turned and shouted happily. "Gohan! Gohan, is that you!"

"Who is that?" A new voice. Piccolo?

"Piccolo! Hey! We're over here!" She smiled at Dende, "see, told you we were getting out of here." He closed his eyes and she let him lean against her. He had nothing left. The sad part was she believed he still didn't care if he was rescued or not.

XXX

A minute later they had unlocked the bonds and released Dende from his chains. Zoë began to help him to his feet, "here, put your arms around me. Come on." She eased him up. She had a bit of trouble due to the fact she was five-five with a small frame. Despite this she managed.

Piccolo and Gohan exchanged glances, wondering if they should help. "We should hurry." Gohan said. "I'll take Dende. We'll move faster. Piccolo, you can take the girl." Piccolo nodded, eyeing Zoë carefully. Zoë gave her own once over and nodded also. "All right then. Let's go. I'm sure Padra knows we're here."

XXX

"Who are you?" Gohan asked, his town sounded demanding. It was short, to the point, but soft. He meant no harm.

Zoë sighed. "My name is Zoë Talbet. I am not from this world." She thought about the dreams she had and the feelings they caused. "Or at least I didn't grow up in this world. I don't know how, but Dende called to me and I came. Don't ask about that either, cause I have no answers."

Gohan looked at her in surprise. "You can't be the one. Dende, is it true? Can it be?" Dende whispered a quiet yes.

Zoë ruffled. "Can _someone_ tell me what's going on!? Why am I here?"

"Be still." Piccolo warned the twisting girl in his arms. "And be quiet. We'll explain everything when we get to safety." Zoë hushed. Piccolo was right, and fighting with him was like trying to fight with a wall. Anyway, she was too worried about Dende to argue.

"Fine." She conceded, letting her eyes move over to Gohan and Dende. "How is he?" She asked in concern, biting her lip nervously.

"Not good, but I think we'll make it." There was an angry bite to his voice. He was mad about Padraigan, enraged at the pain it had put his friend through. "Just as long as we hurry."

XXX

They made it unencumbered to the outside, but a feeling of dread grew stronger and stronger within Zoë. It didn't make sense to her. They weren't completely safe yet, but they were farther from danger. Usually that should make someone feel better; Zoë kept feeling worse. She looked up at Piccolo and saw from the expression on his face she wasn't the only one who was experiencing it. "It's coming, isn't it, Piccolo?" She asked, her voice low and solemn.

"Yes."

He and Gohan increased speed. As they reached the edge a hideous shriek shook the look out and the air around it. The two immediately dropped to their feet, lest they be thrown out of control by whatever magic was afoot. Piccolo let Zoë down, but kept one arm around her to keep her near, just in case. She stood slightly behind him, her body trembling uncontrollably. She had really gotten into a mess this time and she wasn't sure she could get out of it.

"We're going to have to fight!" Gohan yelled over the howl of the unnatural wind that pummeled their bodies and whipped hair and clothes violently. Piccolo quickly agreed and pushed Zoë back behind him. Gohan turned and motioned to her. "Take Dende while we fight. We won't win, but we might knock her out of commission long enough to escape."

Zoë nodded and reached out to enfold the wounded guardian in her arms. She cradled him against her and watched worriedly as Gohan and Piccolo took defensive stances, readying themselves for battle. She was frightened. She had seen many engagements between evil and the Z-fighters, naturally had never been in the center of the conflict.

"Zoë…

She lowered her gaze to meet Dende's dark, wide eyes. His hand closed weakly around her wrist. In that moment something happened. Time stalled, disappeared. His eyes were so intense; his touch was like both fire and ice. He stirred something within her, a memory perhaps. An emotion, or many emotions drawn together as one. She saw color, so vivid, and there was no sound. Nothing except for the two them.

Was she imagining it?

"Zoë. Go. Without you there is no point anymore." His hand slipped into hers, squeezing gently; there was hardly any strength behind it.

Tears welled in her eyes again and his liquid image danced. She pressed them shut for an instant to clear her vision and then looked at him again. "No." She whispered. "No, I won't. Dende, we're in this together. All or none. You got that? Without you there - -"

"Aren't any Dragonballs."

"Screw that!" Zoë cried, "I don't care about them. I care about you! Damn it, can't you see that!" She sobbed, turning her head away. She felt so confused. Why was she feeling this? Why did he turn her heart in the way he was doing? She felt like she had known him her entire life. He felt like a missing piece that she had finally found after all this time. How was this possible? This was insane. "I don't understand what's happening to me … I need you."

Padra approached, long hair flowing like a black cape, her power pulsing around her in static and jagged streaks of lightning. "Who dares challenge my authority?" She bellowed, the air raged as if filled with her emotions. "Who trespasses?"

Gohan stood his ground. He had to wait until the right moment to strike. He knew that at the moment Padra was undefeatable. Even Goku and Vegeta combined could not match her magic. He and Piccolo had no chance of ridding the world of her, at least not alone. The only way to fight Padraigan was with her own game and neither held powers of that persuasion or magnitude.

The one who did had finally returned. The only problem was that Zoë had no idea of her importance. Even worse, she knew not how to use or control the powers within her. She had been given a great gift, but she had to have time to learn it. They had to protect her and Dende. Zoë was the only one who could save them, and Dende was the only one who knew how and why.

"We can't let her get them." Gohan said to the side.

"Absolutely not." Piccolo replied, his face set in seriousness, frozen in determination.

"Are you ready?"

Padra had reached them.

"What kind of question is that, Gohan?" The former trainer met his past student's eyes. It was now. They nodded. Then attacked.

Dende was fading, and Zoë felt helpless. His pulse was weak, yet erratic. He had closed his eyes and refused to open them. Zoë wasn't sure he could even hear her anymore. "Stay with me." She begged. "Hold on just a bit more." She caressed his face, her fingers tracing each inch, memorizing his features by touch. His skin was like satin, smooth and fine. He felt so frail in her arms, so vulnerable.

_I want to protect you,_ She thought,_ I want to make you safe. I want to change things and make it right again._

A soft glow began to pulse around her fingertips, growing steadily. The light reflected on his skin, seemed to pour from her fingers to his body. She watched in fascination as his eyelids fluttered, a soft whimpering came from his lips. Zoë concentrated, felt something open inside her. The light became brighter, more pure. He pressed back against her; his pulse was beginning to stabilize.

With only a moment's hesitation she slid her hand into his shirt. She pressed her palm over his heartbeat and concentrated harder, directing whatever power she had into the weakened organ. The beat became slow and languid, but the danger had passed. At least in that respect. He still had many other wounds, but Zoë now had hope she could help him.

She felt him move and she looked down. His eyes were open and he looked surprised. The weariness was still there, but it had ebbed a little. "You… found your power." He whispered. She nodded and began to retract her hand. Her fingers skimmed across his chest, along his stomach. She pulled her hand away, hoping he wouldn't notice her subconscious slip and the blush that colored her cheeks. He made her insides turn, her heart leap. There was no logic in her feelings … but hadn't she left logic behind when she arrived in this world?

XXX

Kick, punch, block, punch, punch. Gohan spun around behind Padra she as he launched his attack. Another kick sent her sprawling forward into Piccolo's assault. Gohan hung in the air as he waited. He looked back at Dende and Zoë. The girl seemed to be taking good care of the guardian and was upset at all that was happening. She didn't appear to be trying to hide her emotions.

"Gohan!"

The demi-saiyan jerked around to see Piccolo hit the ground and slide. Padra was immediately on Gohan; her hits jarred his body so badly and he wondered if this was what Dende had gone through and how could he have endured it.

He ducked another blow and slammed his fist into Padra's middle. It didn't knock her down, but was sent back a few feet. She returned the hit with a ki blast tainted with dark magic. Gohan could only dodge. Taking a blast was one thing, but that magic was a whole different story. He had watched countless suffer under its influence. He didn't plan on becoming one of those statistics.

He glanced back and realized in horror that the blast would hit Zoë and Dende if not stopped. He wasn't in the position to do anything productive; he'd only egg it on. He shouted to Piccolo, but the Namekian warrior was already in action. His own blast intercepted Padra's and neutralized the danger.

Padra saw this with great intrigue. The girl. She had never seen that girl before, but there was something familiar about her. _Ah,_ she thought, _I know who this is. Who else would come with these fighters?_ Padra threw back her head and laughed loudly, startling the four around her. "So _this_," she said mockingly, motioning to Zoë, "is you _savior!_ This is who you think will defeat me!"

Horror crossed Gohan and Piccolo's faces. One of the things they were counting on was that Padra would not find out about Zoë. Now the beast would do its damndest to kill her. It was already angry with them grabbing Dende away, but bringing her rival into this made things much, much worse.

"Fools!" Padra shrieked in hilarity. "You are all fools!" She threw her arms out, sending waves of energy at the Namek and the Saiyan. The force knocked them off their feet and sent them tumbling backwards. An instant later she turned on Zoë. She formed a ball in her hand saying, "pathetic human. You will never destroy me. Not if you're _dead_!" She hurled it toward the frightened, bewildered girl.

The blast struck the ground in front of Zoë just as Gohan and Piccolo gained control. With a hideous cracking sound the edge began to crumble away. Zoë's eyes locked desperately with Gohan's. She was so afraid, so uncertain, but he could do nothing to save her. Before he could move she had gone. The hope for the earth's survival had vanished beneath the clouds, hurtling towards the surface of the planet they were meant to save.

* * *

Well, that's chapter 2. let me know what you think. I've got a start on chapter three, but I don't know when I'll update next. Life has been quite busy lately. However, I'll try to get it up as quick as I can. 


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